


Songs that bleed

by Astrodraconic (CelestialKnight)



Series: Songs series [3]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Ishbalan | Ishvalan, Amputation, Gen, Ishvalan AU, death as well, just a heads up for that, or vague mentions of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialKnight/pseuds/Astrodraconic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She went to their home the next day, waiting on the front porch to go to school with them, but like she had, they never came, and so the next day and the day after that. One day she felt herself growing frustrated and decided that she would bring matters into her own hands. She marched over to the Elric household and positioned herself in front of Rida and Omid’s window, which happened to be on the first floor, and without much thought next, she repeated the words and the moves, without the accompaniment of the drums, they had given to her so long ago. She sang as best as she could, her words clearly clearly accented as she began to cry ever so slightly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Songs that bleed

Winry looked out from her window, vaguely making out the Elrics house atop the hill. The funeral for Trisha had been mere hours ago and she was sure they were both still out there, crouched over their mother’s grave, Rida as stoic as he tried to be, Omid trying his hardest to hide his tears. She looked down to the tambourine in her room. It was still too early, but she would do it. She would return the favour they had given to her two years ago. It was the least she could do. Losing a parent was hard, and she couldn’t even imagine what it would be like returning to an empty home filled with memories. She had Granny Pinako, but they had no one to hold them when they wept, even if they would do so in the secrecy of their own home. So she waited. She would wait a few days. **  
**

She went to their home the next day, waiting on the front porch to go to school with them, but like she had, they never came, and so the next day and the day after that. One day she felt herself growing frustrated and decided that she would bring matters into her own hands. She marched over to the Elric household and positioned herself in front of Rida and Omid’s window, which happened to be on the first floor, and without much thought next, she repeated the words and the moves, without the accompaniment of the drums, they had given to her so long ago. She sang as best as she could, her words clearly clearly accented as she began to cry ever so slightly. It didn’t take long before Rida lazily opened the window to his shared room, his eyes tired, his eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Winry what are you doing?” His voice was slurred, and she stopped what she had been doing immediately.

“I’m singing a song of mourning,” she said in between the tears she was so desperately trying to hold back. She noted Omid, puffy eyed looking up from behind Rida. “You’ve been in your room all week, and I was worried.” A flash of deja vu. She desperately held onto the tambourine, she emitted determination, she would do what she could for the people she considered kin.

“It’s alright Winry, you can go home.” Rida tried to shrug her off so easily, it was so typical of him, being unable to share his emotions in such a time of need. It didn’t make one weak. She noted Omid mouthing a ‘thank you’ behind Rida, who had been closing the window.

“I won’t! Rida, Omid. Staying cooped up in your house won’t bring back Auntie Trisha, not alchemy either!” She remembered what they had said to her a few years back, adding that in offhandedly, “I know how it feels to loose someone you love, so please, stop holding it in! It’s hurts even more keeping it bottled up inside… please…” she began crying again. Rida turned back around and sighed.

“Brother, Winry’s right.” Omid’s retort was firm. Rida’s shoulders slouched over, there would be no winning this. He turned back to the window and opened it up again.

“We’ll be back to school on Monday! If you’re not up when we come get you at your house, we’ll walk without you!” Rida responded, but Winry only pouted to him, though it quickly turned into a smile.

“Than it’s a promise!”

“Yeah yeah, it’s a promise.” Winry grinned and gave a few lazy taps of her tambourine before running up to the window and quickly bringing both Omid and Rida into a hug.

“We’re family, okay?” They both mumbled out a bashful and embarrassed ‘okay’, to which Winry gave a warm smile. She released them from the hug and waved them off telling them she would see them when Monday came along.

When no longer in sight, the window shut, Omid turned to his brother worried. Rida was deep in thought, contemplating many things. He had said it at the funeral, rather spur of the moment, but now that he had time to let it sit and simmer he was sure. He was definitively sure. He turned to Omid and nodded his head, Omid gave a rather tense nod back.

“We’re going to bring mom back.” Despite what Winry had told them. With that said, they returned to their daily life, while managing enough research to see what they would need to create an artificial human, a homunculi, and bring their deceased mother back from the dead.

They quickly realized with their limitation on alchemic abilities, they would need a teacher, and as luck would have it, one happened to be passing in town during a torrential downpour, helping save the village from flooding. Her name was Izumi Curtis, and she called herself a housewife. When Rida and Omid saw her for the first time, they knew she was the one, and no matter what they would have her be their teacher. They went to go see her like every other townsperson, who wanted to thank her for her help and make sure she was well, and begged for her to teach them alchemy. She looked down to them, and looked around, asking for where their parents were. Someone explained that they were orphans, and it seemed Ishvala had played the cards in their favour. She gave them one month to prove themselves. If they passed then they could stay with her, only if they passed. If they didn’t they could pack their bags and return to the slow bustling town of Resembool. They cheered and accepted the offer. Winry looked to them with sad eyes. They had become so distant since the passing of their mother. Rida more so than ever before. He had always been distant since they moved permanently to Resembool, but he had slowly opened up. With the passing of their mother, he shut her out completely.

She watched as they packed the few things they had, all clothes, and left to the train station. She couldn’t help, but be reminded of her parents. She ran down the dirt road and cuffed her hands to her mouth, tears streaming down her face.

“You’ll come back, okay? Promise?” Rida turned around and cuffed his hands around his own mouth to return the reply.

“It’s a promise! You won’t even know who we are next time you see us!” Omid grinned and waved his goodbyes to Winry. She returned it with a wide arcing motion of her arm. She watched as they slowly faded into the distance, and they were nothing more than specks of shadows in the lazy Resembool backdrop. Pinako patted her on the shoulder, and Winry wiped away the tears. She’d get better too. Next time they say her, she would be a great automail mechanic.

When upon the train, the two boys quickly felt awe mesmerize them. They had never been outside of the eastern district of Amestris, and they would have wanted to take it all in. Izumi looked over to the two boys, who, after a few hours on the train, had fallen asleep. It would be a three day trip, and it would be a long one for sure. She looked out the window then back to her husband Sig, who was staring at the children with ever so slight worry. Izumi leaned into her husband and sighed.

“They’ll be alright.”

“I hope so.” Was the grunt of a reply Sig gave.

Omid closed his eyes tighter, a small smile on his face. She had said so herself, they would be alright. He knew they would pass this trial period and become great alchemists, great enough to bring back even mom. Worry formed in his stomach. He still wasn’t sure if bringing her back was what was right, but he desperately wanted to see her smiling face again, to hear her sing in a language that felt foreign to his tongue but comprehensible to his ears. He wanted to dance and sing with her like old times, even if he became incredibly clumsy while doing the steps. He wanted a status quo he missed so dearly. He looked over to Rida, knowing the want of a status quo long forgotten had been something he could never achieve since they moved to Resembool, but they had made something new and that too, in the end, had been taken from them.

Rida had been right. The next time she saw them both, she could barely even recognize them, or even knew they were back for that matter. On the doorsteps of her home on a stormy night, clutched within metallic arms, was a young boy covered in blood, speaking the language she hadn’t heard in ages. She looked up when the person in the suit of armour spoke, their voice having a metallic ring to it, as if it was empty. 

“Omid…Is that you?” Her eyes widened in shock as she rushed over quickly to the bleeding figure.

“Rida, Omid! Oh god, what happened? ” She frantically examined Rida’s stumps. The amputation was the cleanest cut she had ever seen.

“We…we tried bringing m-mom back but…” Omid looked down. Pinako quickly rushed into action along with her granddaughter. Pinako placed Rida down in an occupied patient room while Winry went to go fetch some clean bandages. When that was done, she went to go check on Omid and surprised herself when he caught her off guard when she thought he was sleeping.

“Omid…When did you guys come back? what exactly happened?” Winry sat herself beside the young boy she had become familiar with over so many years.

“…A few months ago. Winry I… I…I don’t know. Winry, we’re sorry. We’re so sorry…” there were no tears on his face, all there was was the reflection of light off of cold metal, but there was pain in his voice, a voice that felt so real. Winry looked up to him, the happy red eyes she had been so used to seeing replaced by vacant one’s.

All Winry could do was listen to Omid’s continuous string of apologizes in a metallic voice, tend to Rida’s bandages and listen to him cry out in his sleep, the time where he was most vulnerable and spoke away nonsense in Ishvalan. She couldn’t make out some of it, but his dreams seemed to rotate around three figures. Auntie Trisha, a person named Noor, and Omid. Winry bit her lips. She felt so helpless, being unable to do anything to comfort her family. All she could do was tend to the bandages and keep Omid company as best as she could. She stopped suddenly, realizing that this was the best she could do in these dire circumstances and reaffirmed herself. She would be here for them. No matter how small the action, the gesture, she would be there for them.

She would be sure of that.

**Author's Note:**

> I get to work on these more now, but anyway thank you to you all who've stuck through this!! A lot more to come, I'm posting these all individually because while they could be all in one giant fic, they feel better to me individually, you know? But if push comes to shove I'll post them all in one giant fic (most likely on ffnet, since they don't have the "series" option like ao3 does).


End file.
